


I've done it all in broad daylight

by towards_morning



Series: Primacy (yelling all the way down) [12]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, M/M, Mental Health Issues, OCD, Sex Work, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towards_morning/pseuds/towards_morning
Summary: Minimus has spent a long while fading away from every place he tries to slot himself into. Rodimus has plans that probably do not, strictly speaking, require an assistant, but every wannabe captain looks better with employees.Or: Rodimus is an e-boy with bigger goals, Minimus really needs a job, Drift should probably move out already, and nobody can reach Ratchet for comment at this time, thank you.
Relationships: Minimus Ambus/Rodimus, Rodimus Prime/Ultra Magnus
Series: Primacy (yelling all the way down) [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424047
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	I've done it all in broad daylight

**Author's Note:**

> Hm, so! This is something I do not normally do. Post a longfic while still a WIP.
> 
> This is not so much a chaptered fic as a "prologue, main fic and epilogue" fic. Here is your prologue; I make no promises as to how long the main fic will take; however, in the interest of holding myself accountable as I write this beast of a Primacy AU fic, I am posting the complete prologue now. If you have not read previous Primacy fics, the short of it is that it is an Aligned and IDW fusion AU in which war did not happen as a result of the Matrix making unorthodox decisions. While this fic is not one that 100% requires you read the other fics in the series per se, I would recommend it for context. It's in a handy series and everything.
> 
> Some content notes. This is a series that deals with and depicts sex work, albeit in an alien society with a little less stigma and certainly less precise realism than IRL. It will not be a fic that does so in either a Sad, Angst TM way, or a Fetishy and Super Sexy TM way! Please don't be weird about it on either front, ta. (Turns out, sex work is mostly scheduling, which lends itself to neither, but which Minimus appreciates.) It will also deal not particularly heavily but still persistantly with mental health topics. Be aware.
> 
> All that aside, enjoy. Title is from "5 out of 6" by Dessa.

Minimus berated himself even as he knocked.  
  


He had nearly talked himself out of this. Even after so many failed endeavours, he had almost managed to tell himself he wouldn't stoop to answering classified calls on the net. Never mind the vague promises to call back some other time or the polite non-answers after trying so hard to put his best pede forward, Minimus had really managed to believe, for a time, that he was above this kind of thing. _What kind of thing?_ asked the precise part of his mind that didn't accept half answers, and Minimus had to grit his teeth as he pushed that question aside.  
  


Even so he pulled himself to attention when the door swung open. He looked up just slightly to bright blue optics.  
  


“Hey!” said the other mech, smiling. “Come on in. Minimus, right? You want a drink?”  
  


The mech was framed in the doorway by a kind of casual chaos. Everything strewn everywhere. Minimus forced himself to not glance past as he nodded.  
  


“Are you Rodimus?” he asked as he stepped forward, letting the door swing shut behind him. He kept his eyes forward and neutral. A part of him wanted to look over that bright mech, gleaming in the late sunlight, all warm tones- but he instinctively shut that process down. Easy from long habit. Not appropriate. Entirely unnecessary. “That is- it's nice to meet you.”  
  


The advertisement had looked... not ideal, but reasonable, he reflected.  
  


Minimus had once thought he might make something of himself. Not that he would be particularly impressive, mind. Only that he might be able to in some small way make a name for himself, even in the shadow of a house that did not particularly want him and an overacomplished spark brother.  
  


The last gentle and entirely impersonal phasing out had been close to the last straw. Refusal for the Primal Vanguard he had borne without complaint, all those centuries ago. The years of ignored service in the administrative branch of Cybertron's remaining standing army before an uninterested dismissal, that he had resigned himself to. But when he was unceremoniously let go after less than a stellar cycle from the entirely dull role he'd been given in some unimportant niche of government accounting, Minimus admitted to himself that he was now officially at his limit.  
  


He could bear rejection. He had done so all his life. It was the disposability and impersonal disinterest he was unable to continue accepting.  
  


_Personal assistant wanted,_ the advertisement had said-  _Full time, for an established media personality-  
  
_

Dominus had not been comfortable after he mentioned who he was going to interview with. That conversation had ended in the same clipped tones that characterised their last millenia of trying to find a less awkward middle ground for small talk. In well-intentioned disaster, essentially. Minimus forced that out of his mind as the he looked over a mech wearing a bright grin that matched the well-polished frame of someone used to putting on a meticulous front.  
  


Minimus forced himself out of his own thoughts as Rodimus flashed a grin, hand darting out to shake. “The one and only. You want a drink?”  
  


“No, thank you,” Minimus said, stepping one step forward again. He shook the extended servo once before dropping it. Rodimus cocked his head towards a door, and Minimus looked at that rather than dwell on the chaotic state of the room they'd come into. It was full of- things, and it took all Minimus had to push that out of his mind, even as he wanted to catalogue every example of how _not_ to leave fire exits clear. It nagged at him even as he told himself it was not, yet, his business.  
  


“You ready?” Rodimus asked.  
  


“Yes,” Minimus answered, following him. He let himself ignore those little worries. Made himself, really.

* * *

“ _You took it, then?” Dominus asked, looking up from a datapad. His office was scaled for the loadbearing armour he wore, larger than Minimus' own, and Minimus had to strain his neck to look up and meet his spark brother's optics.  
  
_

“ _Yes,” Minimus said. He clasped hands behind his back and stayed ramrod straight, eyes straight ahead. “It went well. I start next week.”  
  
_

_Dominus looked away first. Minimus tried not to give into the urge to count that as some kind of win; that kind of tally was frankly petty.  
  
_

_The pause before Dominus responded was telling. But all he said was- “I'm glad for you, brother.”  
  
_

_Minimus hesitated before he left. It had been a while since he had dropped by, after all. “And you, Dominus?” he asked. “How are you?”  
  
_

“ _Excellent,” Dominus said, smiling more warmly than before. Minimus let himself loosen just a fraction at the sight. “Rewind was asking after you, lately. He was hoping perhaps you would be free to catch up soon. He always asks how you're doing, you know. He worries.”  
  
_

“ _Yes,” Minimus said, caught halfway between leaving and the door. He was never quite sure of how to gracefully leave, even as he saw Dominus turn back to his work. “Tell him I'm well,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”  
  
_

“ _Good, good,” said Dominus, catching Minimus' eye and smiling that small, rare flash of approval. “I will.”_

* * *

The interview had been, if nothing else, enlightening.  
  


Minimus had of course done enough research beforehand to know exactly what “streamer” and “established media personality” had meant. And while that had at first given him pause he had found he really was not so bothered by it as he expected. While it wasn't something he really knew much about, per se, the advertisement laid out a role he was perfectly comfortable with, and the details were really not that important.  
  


No, it was the mech himself who threw Minimus for a loop. He had thrown himself down and said, “So, I'll level with you, I don't really need an assistant right now.”  
  


That brought a number of questions to mind, but before Minimus could react Rodimus went on. “I mean, not for what I'm doing right now, anyway. I have that under control and all. So it's not gonna be you doing the day to day right now. It's more a future prospects kind of thing. Thought I should be upfront about that. I can pay, though, don't worry, I got a sweet sponsorship just last week-”  
  


Rodimus, as it turned out, was a talker. Minimus kept himself still as he watched, Rodimus' hands flickering one way and then the next. It kept his mind away from its instinctive urge to catalogue the room. There was a box sat askew in front of a door that Minimus was carefully ignoring for the sake of not finding himself speaking out of turn. It took up enough of his attention to do so that he had to bring his focus back to Rodimus after a few moments.  
  


“-so really, it's less the day to day and more the big picture I'm looking at right now,” Rodimus finished. His grin was sudden enough to take Minimus by surprise as he forced himself to look back at his interviewer. “You know about all this kind of sla- uh, stuff, from what you sent. Right?”  
  


Minimus skimmed back through his log of the past few minutes of rambling. Talk of branching out, of petitioning for a ship, getting off-world; of all sorts of ill-defined nonsense that Minimus knew from experience had no chance in the Pit of coming to fruition. Not so much a plan to launch as a hope of escape. Rodimus saying, _your brother went looking, didn't he? He gave up, but I know I can find it_. _I just need a ship. I just need-  
  
_

Dominus had come back empty handed after that long, long trek for Luna-1.  
  


It was foolish and Minimus would once have walked right out the door at those first words of “I don't really need-”  
  


But Minimus had been turned away enough that even a fool looking to invite him in was enough to make him nod. Better pointless work doomed to fail than flailing without even an illusionary purpose. Better purposeful nonsense than admitting he had nothing to do at all.  
  


“I understand,” he said, one sharp nod.  
  


Rodimus' entire face split into a grin so wide Minimus wondered where it found the space. “Great! So, tell me about yourself, huh? What do you fancy mechs do over on the nice side of town?”  
  


Minimus held his hands together in his lap and hoped very much indeed he would not regret this.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hold me accountable for finishing all the rest of it at auto_thots on twitter. And much love to Harper and Kit for dealing with my yelling in the group chat as we plot out this AU, ahah.


End file.
